


No Penguins Were Harmed in the Making of This Story

by misspamela



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:16:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misspamela/pseuds/misspamela





	No Penguins Were Harmed in the Making of This Story

They were lying on the floor in some bar. No, _under_ a bar. Under was probably the best word, even though it might be more accurate to say that the bar was huffing about somewhere in the vicinity of the ceiling and throwing them nasty looks. Arthur couldn't remember what they'd done to warrant such treatment, but he also couldn't remember how they got on the floor, or, for that matter, what planet they were currently on.

"Guide," he mumbled to Ford, who was giggling at an irate penguin on the dance floor.

"No, wait," Ford announced. "I have an idea." Ford dragged them over to a small, dark alcove that smelled faintly of olive oil and licorice. "Arthur," he said, pushing a very intent finger into Arthur's shoulder, "what do you think about sex?"

"Well," Arthur said, after some thought. "I rather approve, I suppose. Providing that the two parties share some sort of affection and - "

"Great!" Ford hugged him and started to take off his coat.

"What on Earth are you doing?"

"We're not on Earth," Ford reminded him from under his shirt. "I'm thinking that hey, Arthur's a hoopy frood and we�"" he imitated Arthur's pained tone "�"'share some affection', so, hey. Shouldn't you be taking your robe off?"

"You want to have sex with _me_?"

"Why not?" Ford carefully laid his towel on the floor, and, with an affectionate pat, laid Arthur's towel on top of it.

"Well, you can't just �" people _do_, of course, but there are usually, I don't know, _accoutrements_ to the romance process, and…what planet are we on again?"

"Sverixndel Eight." Ford untied the belt of Arthur's robe. "Accoutrements? Are those the things with the leather and the spiky whatnots?"

"No! Like Flowers and dinner and 'I'll call you.'"

"Yeah? I thought you just rubbed the relevant bits together until everyone went home sticky and happy."

"Well, if you want to be, ah, simple-minded, ah…" Arthur fumbled around for his train of thought, which seemed to be happily derailing as a direct result of the creative things that Ford was doing with his hands. "Ah," Arthur said again, because it seemed like a really simple word.

"Listen, this part usually goes better if you get involved," Ford suggested.

"What? Right, sorry." Arthur remembered a few creative things to do with his hands as well.

"Brilliant," Ford smiled.

Several moments later, they stumbled out of the alcove. Dodging the penguin, a creature that seemed to be made out of latex and metal studs, and the exploding green glowy bottles that the bar rained down on their heads, they managed to get back to the Heart of Gold with a minimum of damage to themselves or their towels.


End file.
